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eomma-jpeg · 6 months

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bc i crave validation and I know yall crave vashmeryl,,, here is a post trimax idea that @noaafishfieldguide and I brainstormed earlier today and I already have 3k words written for.

Here is part 1 | part 2

A sharp breath entered Meryl's lungs, adjusting her rhythm from being fully asleep to being slightly awake. She tried to blink, but she couldn’t quite tell if it was working in this darkness.

Another knock sounded.

Realizing what had woken her, Meryl slid out from beneath her sheets and stretched out, chin compressing into her chest as her arms elongated upwards. She rolled her neck as another soft knock came her way.

“Coming,” she said, mostly to herself. The person on the other side was sure not to hear her soft reply through all the walls.

Meryl stood on her wobbly and sleepy legs, shuffling along her floor and around corners until she came to the front door of her apartment. Careful as she undid locks and left a few chains still connected, she pulled the door open a fraction in order to peek out.

It was dark outside, her porch light having been turned off hours ago. Meryl wasn't sure what time it was, but it was too late to be called night time and too early to be called morning. Out in the darkness, Meryl could make out a few shadows in the moonlight.

“Hello?” she said to the emptiness.

The darkness shifted and a pair of glowing eyes met hers. A chill ran down Meryl’s spine just before the recognition clicked.

“Vash?”

The eyes relaxed, pupils dilating and lids dropping, “Meryl.”

Closing the door in his face, Meryl quickly slid the few chains left in place and flicked on the light, then ripped the door back open.

Standing there in the pale light of her front porch was infamous outlaw Vash the Stampede, complete and alive. And exhausted. Beneath his eyes were dark bags, darker than she’d seen them in years, even before the confrontation at Octovern. She felt light headed anytime her mind wandered back to that time.

“Vash…” she began slowly, the excitement welling up in her chest, “We haven’t been able to find you since Mesa Probe.”

He flashed a weak grin, “I found a good hiding spot.”

She scoffed, “I figured as much. It’s been over a month since I…” Meryl trailed off again, her eyes moving downward as she finally noticed the bundle of fabric in Vash’s arms. It was his red coat, but normally– if Vash wasn’t wearing it– he folded it carefully, lined up all the buttons to ensure they didn’t unravel. Currently, the jacket seemed haphazardly wrapped in an elongated ball, held tight to his body and balanced in the crook of his elbow.

Deciding to ignore it in favor of directing her attention to someone much more skittish, she looked back at Vash’s face, “What are you doing here, Vash? It's the middle of the night.”

His mouth opened slightly, pausing to determine the correct words to appease her (despite the fact that Meryl didn’t need much appeasing. She was so relieved to see him), “I… I needed a place to stay.”

Taking another look at him, Meryl noticed the layer of dust that was now visible to her dark-adjusted eyes. He was covered in grime, the jacket in his arms was bundled but even she could see the rough bullet torn edges, and his eyes were so tired. He looked about ready to collapse on the concrete of her front step.

“Come in.” was all she said.

Vash let out a small, relieved laugh, “I thought you were gonna send me away for sure.” He did a little rhythmic bounce with his arms that seemed like nervous energy to Meryl.

“I… I wouldn’t do that.”

Meryl, however, would have been more likely to turn him away if it wasn’t the middle of the night and she had more cognitive function. But right now, Vash was standing in her doorway, asking for her help, and her heart couldn’t have been happier to do so.

She stepped aside, allowing him the room he needed to slide in. As he took his first few steps, Meryl’s ever observant eyes noticed the bundle as it passed. She realized it wasn't exactly a mess of old red fabric, but a well wrapped swaddle.

Vash’s feet came to a halt on the wood in the entryway.

A swaddle.

Meryl’s eyes widened. She turned the lights on.

“A baby,” she said blatantly before the practical side of her mind could catch it.

The plant stiffened, then relaxed, “Yeah, a baby.”

Meryl felt light headed again.

Vash crouched ever so slightly to her height, then tugged down a section of the fabric to reveal the softest, sleepiest face. So round and so fresh, a newborn baby sat perfectly content in his precious jacket. Meryl finally noticed the little snores being exhaled through the squashed nose trapped between her chubby cheeks.

“A baby…” Meryl said again, leaning in toward the sweet little thing.

Then, reality kicked in.

“A baby?!”

Vash winced and the child made a little whining noise, “Please, Mer. I need her to sleep.”

Meryl slammed her hands over her mouth, mortified at her brash words. She lowered her volume and stared pointedly at Vash, her eyes full of confusion and surprise and irritation and… and… pure astonishment, “Where did you get a baby?”

A wide yawn impeded Vash’s response, “She’s mine.”

“Y-” she froze, “Yours?”

“I’d love to answer all of your questions, Meryl,” Vash said sleepily and with a hint of annoyance. Meryl knew it was a lie; he never answered her questions, “But I’d love to sleep.”

Realizing he was her guest and not just some intruder (in the morning, her brain would tell her that he was absolutely an intruder), Meryl rushed past him to her hall closet, gathering an extra quilt she had stored and a pillow that lacked a pillow case. Then, she wondered where she could place the baby.

Returning to find Vash sitting on her sofa, bouncing the baby in his arms absently while he closed his eyes for a moment, Meryl asked softly, “Where would you like the baby to sleep?”

He didn’t open his eyes, “She can sleep with me. I can watch her.”

Meryl furrowed her brows in a bit of frustration, “You can’t sleep and watch her, Vash.”

The plant yawned again, and Meryl felt the influence as she yawned herself. “I just need to lay down and rest. That’s what I’ve done the past few nights.” Shifting on the couch, Vash laid on his back, head resting on a throw pillow while he settled the baby on his chest, creating a rehearsed and probably quite comfy location for her to sleep. Vash was warm. Meryl knew that well.

Meryl crept into the dim living room with the blanket in hand, “I can watch her,” She wasn’t quite sure what possessed her to make that offer, but she could chalk it up to the fact that it was 3:42 in the morning and it was Vash. The thought of him just being in her house filled her with this strange warmth.

He had come here when he needed help.

Meryl felt her throat clench. She definitely needed more sleep.

She slipped the blanket over Vash, stopping it just below where the baby was laid. Vash murmured, “Don’t watch her, Mer. She’s…she’s my responsibility…” he was fading in and out of consciousness, “I don’t expect… I don’t expect you to take care of her.”

Meryl watched as Vash’s head relaxed fully, depressing the pillow and marking his descent into sleep, but his hands still held onto his baby so carefully. He kept her perched just perfectly so that she wouldn’t roll off his chest and onto the ground below. The image of him doing this out in the desert sands beneath a protective butte, sacrificing his coat so this little girl could withstand the cold and the whipping of sand around them. Emotion once again rose in Meryl’s throat.

Stubbornness also mixed in with the sadness and Meryl slid her hands gently beneath the baby, scooping her with confidence into her arms. Vash made a small sound of protest, but not enough to get Meryl to stop her seizure of the child. The rough texture of Vash’s coat as she slid her hand beneath it was so filled with nostalgia that Meryl was nearly knocked off her feet, but she was careful as she lowered to the ground, sitting with crossed legs and adjusting the soft bundle into a comfortable position for them both. Meryl carefully pulled down the flap again to get a good look at the baby’s face.

She was so small and soft. Meryl ran a gentle finger over her cheek to check just how soft she was. In her many years as an inhabitant of No Man’s Land, she’d never felt something so lovely and velvety. She swallowed down another wave of overwhelming emotion, now growing annoyed at her own inability to control it.

Beneath her little eyelids, the babe’s eyes moved rapidly, dreaming of something intriguing. At least, Meryl hoped. This child probably didn’t know much about their world, let alone the interesting parts. Mind wandering, Meryl’s tired mind wondered more about this baby. She ran her finger over her cheek again, then gave an amused smile to no one in particular.

“I don’t even know your name, and here I am, planning to stay up all night until your dad wakes up.”

Calling Vash a father felt like a gut punch, even if it was an accurate descriptor.

The baby in her arms stirred, her face pinching up just slightly, and Meryl responded with a gentle bounce and a soft shh, but it wasn’t enough. Squirming out of her packaging, the little girl was able to wriggle an arm out. She stretched her chubby little fingers toward the sky and Meryl couldn’t help the desire to fit her finger into the babe’s palm. Acting on that instinct, Vash’s baby clamped her hand onto Meryl’s index.

Vash’s baby.

Sighing, Meryl’s mind was just swirling with a lot of unanswered questions and new concepts she didn’t know if she was ready to accept, but her sleepy mind could leave them by the wayside for when she was fully rested. That tight rim around her water lines was affecting her eyesight and she swore she could feel the sand forming in the corners.

Finally finished with her wiggling, the baby settled into a new comfy position with one arm out and her head poking out a bit more from her makeshift swaddle. Meryl’s eyes were immediately drawn to the little crop of hair.

Blonde.

Her mouth parted in awe, “I guess you really are Vash’s, huh.”

The baby didn’t say anything, and neither did Vash, the two plant’s snores mingling in the early morning.

#wip #vashmeryl #trigun #trimax #post trimax #fic #trigun fanfiction #trigun fic

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queermomo · 1 year

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Trans vash renaissance among trigun enjoyers is the best thing that ever happened to me! I've never come across this sheer amount of fan content headcanoning a fictional character as a trans person ever before and I really can't express in words how much this means to me as a trans person myself

#trigun stampede #Yes I'm getting emotional and rightfully so #you have no idea how badly people react to trans headcanons #I'm actually quite late at trigun party and had no idea about this trans renaissance #my friend told me how majority of the fics have trans vash and i didn't believe it #but here we're now #thank you to all the fan content creators #vash the stampede #vashwood #vashmeryl #trans visibility #fandom rant

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ariadnekurosaki · 3 months

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Fandom Recs for Feedback Fest 2024

For International Fanworks Day, which is February 15th. In no particular order, and across multiple fandoms.

The Rock and the River by Pi Fandom: Spirited Away | Rating: T | Ship: Haku/Chihiro Chihiro takes magic and bends it around herself to make a place in the world.

at the end of all lines by tosca1390 Fandom: Bleach | Rating: T | Ship: IchiRuki They say every time things will be different. Rukia has stopped believing them at last.

Plum Blossoms of a Past Winter by Waffles Risa Fandom: Bleach | Rating: K+ | Ship: IchiRuki Ichigo and Rukia are spun decades into the past.

The Roots of Heaven by paperiuni Fandom: Bleach | Rating: M | Ship: IchiRenRuki After the year of the war, Renji and Ichigo find themselves on a rescue mission (cum road trip) featuring: parallel worlds, lost friends, wine, women, dead souls, demons, male bonding, mind games, sex, angst, campfires, metaphysics, thrilling heroics, kindly lies, and Rukia.

Goodmorning (it's not morning) by Limewire Fandom: Bleach | Rating: E | Ship: IchiRuki Rukia wakes up with Ichigo inside her sometimes.

Saving Grace by anonymous Fandom: Trigun | Rating: Not Rated | Ship: VashMeryl Or: Meryl gets very hurt, and Vash panics, and sprouts more than a few feathers as a result.

through all these western nights by cryonica Fandom: Trigun Stampede | Rating: E | Ship: VashMeryl something more/less than human sleeps beneath the skin of vash the stampede. meryl stryfe takes every opportunity to wake it up.

The Sea King by Doghead Thirteen Fandom: Harry Potter | Rating: T | Ship: Harmione Nineteen years ago, Harry Potter put paid to Voldemort at Hogwarts; now it's nineteen years later and, as the diesels hammer on, a bushy-haired girl is still searching for The-Boy-Who-Walked-Away...

Death and a Butterbeer Chaser, Hold the Cat by apAidan Fandom: Harry Potter | Rating: T | Ship: Harmione Death visits Harry twice. Traitor to the Cause by the_black_rose Fandom: Gundam Wing | Rating: T | Ship: 1xR When the government demands that Relena identify the Gundam Pilots and turn over all records from their time in the Sanq Kingdom, she refuses and is branded a traitor.

#fic recs #IFD2024 #feedback fest #ichiruki #ichirenruki #spirited away #harmione #1xr #vashmeryl

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eshtaresht · 5 months

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Not About the Couch (T, 3k)

new post-canon too-angsty-to-be-called-fluff meryl/milly/vash fic! (also we really need to come up with a proper name for this throuple)

Summary:

“Vash, what’s wrong?” asked Milly, smudged for some reason. “You’re cryin’,” she added helpfully, putting the book away. Oh. That explained the blurriness. _____ or, Vash is chilling on the couch, trying not to think about The Horrors

Relationships: Meryl Stryfe & Milly Thompson & Vash the Stampede, Meryl Stryfe/Milly Thompson/Vash the Stampede, Milly Thompson & Vash the Stampede, Meryl Stryfe & Vash the Stampede, Meryl Stryfe/Milly Thompson, Meryl Stryfe & Milly Thompson & Vash the Stampede & Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood

Characters: Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Milly Thompson, Meryl Stryfe

Additional tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, this is both extra soft and gutwrenching, Grief/Mourning, couch jumpscare from the get go, Polyamory, Canon Disabled Character, Crying, Post-Canon, Trigun Maximum Spoilers, Past Character Death, Established Relationship, see also: lesbian-centric semi nonsexual throuple, and they were roomates

#trigun fic #trigun fanfiction #vashmilly #vashmeryl #esht writes fic

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museqmeg · 5 months

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They're listening to their podfic and you're invited!

Tomorrow evening at 7pm EST is the first listening party in my Discord server! Myself, @aubielikey (Meryl), & Ryan Tibbitts (Vash) will be on to interact with you!

#vashmeryl #vash x meryl #vashmeryl fic #vashmeryl podfic #trigun podfic #trigun stampede #trigun #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe #reporter’s notes

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needle-noggins · 2 months

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Chapter 12: Impossible

Summary:

Meryl is transfixed by the sight as he lies on her bed, bare, in full view. Vash's scarred and metal-riddled skin, each one a chapter in the story of his life, stretches down to something that explains exactly why. Something nonhuman. She's never seen him like this, never touched him...

Smut is here :3

#bluebellposting #vashmeryl #vashmeryl fic #trimax fanfic #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe

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kichukitsu · 1 year

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" His arms were at his sides, caught off guard that Meryl was hugging him, but her answer back had him wrapping them completely around her. “Thank you.” He buried his head into the side of her face and neck ."

I finally managed to draw the scene that I really liked so far in the sheets fic! Stay tune for sexy one Go read the fanfic that @museqmeg has made!

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hashtagcaneven · 2 months

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Getting on more powerful brains meds definitely put a hitch in my writing step. But I think I've found that groove again.

And it's time for everyone's favorite thing: 10k of ACTION!

First Chapter | Previous Chapter

#trigun #trigun fic #trigun au #mashwood fantasy au #mashwood #mashwood historical au #stryfewood #merylwood #vashmeryl #vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #meryl stryfe #meryl x vash x wolfwood #30p #kuro writes

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oikyskau · 1 year

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Down to the last bottle

Trigun Stampede | Wolfwood x Meryl x Vash | Missing Scenes: Episode 10

A What If Meryl had managed to drag Vash into that elevator with her and Roberto, and stopped him and Wolfwood before it was too late?

Read on ao3 here.

“How many drinks have you had, little miss?”

Meryl doesn’t remember, or care, how many of these twice her size kegs of whiskey she’s had. All that matters is that she still knows exactly why she’s drinking, can still see his face, the pain-filled smile, her name on his lips as life bled out of him. It’s seared into her brain, seeping into her skin and settling in her bones – an ache that will stay with her for the rest of her life.

Even Wolfwood’s playful nickname for her only sends a pang through her heart. He’s right, isn’t he – she’s just a little girl who rushed into danger and got her mentor killed.

“I’m still average sized,” is what she says, remembering the way Vash would force his lips into a smile even when his heart seemed to have shattered into a million pieces.

“Still not big enough to down all that whiskey.”

Meryl almost laughs, but reaches for another swig instead. Before she can grab a hold of it, the bottle is snatched out of her hand with such vigour that her chair almost tips back. “Hey!”

Wolfwood just grins – not his usual one, but an emptier version, filled instead with the pain of a lost brother, of never-breaking chains. He lets himself fall into the chair next to her, shoulder bumping hers. “Sharing is caring,” he says and tips the bottle up.

They stay like this, enjoy that single moment of reprieve as long as they can. With nothing to do, Meryl feels her hands shake. Does she even deserve to make them rest? Shouldn’t she be going after those responsible for the empty seat across from them?

“Did he ask for a drink before?”

The clank of the bottle being set back onto the table almost drowns out Wolfwood’s words. His muscles look stiff, like he wants to reach out but doesn’t know how.

“Yeah, he–,” she tries, but chokes up. Her throat feels so thick. As if stubbornly contradicting her thoughts, Wolfwood’s hand brushes over her back and settles between her shoulder blades. The sob wretches out of her mouth.

“It’s my fault,” she sobs, and believes it, believes it in the very depths of her heart, “It’s my fault he died.”

“Hey now..”

“You know I’m right,” fingers curling into fists, nails cutting into her palm, “If I had just listened to him and stopped running into trouble, stopped sticking my nose into things I shouldn’t, then he wouldn’t– he wouldn’t have–”

“People die.” His voice sounds calm, repeating a phrase he’s told himself countless times before. And yet, his fingers dig into her skin, as if they hurt to say. “It might be your fault, it might not, but at the end of the day, people die. And you survived.”

Dragging her forearm across her face, Meryl snivels. “But it’s not fair.”

There’s bitterness in Wolfwood’s smile. “Life isn’t fair, princess.”

She’s learnt that now. To think that only months ago, she was living a cosy life with the only ambition of joining a newsdesk in the pursuit of justice, when she didn’t even know what justice was. The arm at her back sneaks around her shoulders, pulling her closer with a playful laugh.

“Any more confessions to make while your priest is sober?”

“Shut up, you’re not even a real priest.”

They both stiffen when they spot a familiar figure slouching into the bar. As usual, Vash had left without another word after both him and Wolfwood dragged Meryl out of that elevator. She’s glad he headed her warning for once and didn’t walk into what was so obviously a trap. Still, Meryl lets her eyes wander over him as he lets himself drop down on her other side. There is something void about him, like another piece of him had been forcefully chaffed away.

But he’s here, with them.

Scooching over, Meryl carefully leans her head against his shoulder. She feels him stiffen, the physical contact too much and she almost jerks away to give him the space he needs. Before she can, his entire body relaxes, face sinking into her hair with a sigh. He nuzzles into her, nodding shallowly into Wolfwood’s direction. “How are you two holding up?”

Wolfwood raises his cigarette in a faux salute. “She’s down to her last bottle and this is my last cigarette. That’s pretty much it. What are you out of, blondie?”

Vash just laughs, pulls her a little closer. The message is clear.

Ever the observer, Vash nudges Meryl next, eyes burning into the gun lying on the table. “Did he give that gun to you?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, thinking back to that ugly spike of hatred that flared up in her, that want to take and take until what was taken from her was avenged, the emptiness when Wolfwood dragged her out. “I wanted to use it earlier. But I didn’t.”

His body presses closer to hers. “Meryl.”

“Tch,” Wolfwood scoffs, before she feels his arm back around her shoulder, fingers clamping around Vash’s coat, “you two are just the same. Seems like you’re gonna need me to look after you a little longer, huh?”

“If you want to be taken care of, Nico, just say so.”

She feels him smile into her hair. It’s a little broken, but they all are.

#trigun stampede #trigun #mashwood #meryl x vash x wolfwood #trigun fic #vash x meryl x wolfwood #vashmeryl #vashwood #my writings #there ya go #what have u done nightow three perfectly fine characters and theyre all depressed

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